The world is a mask that hides the real world.
Thatâs what everybody suspects, though the world we see wonât let us dwell on it long.
The world has ways - more masks - of getting our attention.
The suspicion sneaks in now and again, between the cracks of everyday existenceâ¦the bird song dips, rises, dips, trails off into blue sky silence before the note that would reveal the shape of a melody that, somehow, would tie everything together, on the verge of unmasking the hidden armature that frames this sky, this tree, this bird, this quivering green leaf, jewels in a crown.â¦
As the song dies, the secret withdraws.
The tree is a mask.
The sky is a mask.
The quivering green leaf is a mask.
The song is a mask.
The singing bird is a mask.
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
Silence or inhuman void?
The antique palm-top sat on my desk where it had since I took it out of the package.
As I watched, it buzzed and vibrated gently but distinctly. I stared at it as it buzzed, goggle-eyed, I imagine, if anybody was watching.
The following quote materialized on the screen:
Next, the attribution, presented as a hyperlink:
I couldn't resist.
Click.
As I watched, it buzzed and vibrated gently but distinctly. I stared at it as it buzzed, goggle-eyed, I imagine, if anybody was watching.
The following quote materialized on the screen:
"Soon silence will have passed into legend. Man has turned his back on silence. Day after day he invents machines and devices that increase noise and distract humanity from the essence of life, contemplation, meditation.... Tooting, howling, screeching, booming, crashing, whistling, grinding, and trilling bolster his ego. His anxiety subsides. His inhuman void spreads monstrously like a gray vegetation."
Next, the attribution, presented as a hyperlink:
Jean Arp
I couldn't resist.
Click.
